


The Object of His Solace

by ShinyGreenApple



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: "Keep him close" trope, Canon Universe, Enemies to Lovers, Hate to Love, Hux hates his life, Insecurity, Kylo Ren Has Issues, Kylo Ren Needs a Hug, M/M, Poor Hux, Rating May Change, Sharing a Bed, Sharing a Room, Slow Burn, Supreme Leader Kylo Ren, and a skinny ginger teddy bear, forced cuddling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-21
Updated: 2019-03-19
Packaged: 2019-08-26 22:28:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16690108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShinyGreenApple/pseuds/ShinyGreenApple
Summary: I was climbing, now I'm fallingI've been pushed off by a manWho has made it to the topAnd now defends it 'cause he canAnd I have found a breach in his front line*******************************************Intimacy had never been Hux's strong suit. And now he finds himself folded into the insecure and childish embrace of Supreme Leader Ren on a nightly basis. Finding a way to use the situation to his advantage may well be worth the unsettling closeness.





	1. Chapter 1

 

 

It had been years ago, when he was a small child, and while Hux could not remember where he had been or why, he could recall how he felt in vivid detail, rendering his current situation uncomfortably familiar. His younger self had been alarmed, at first, the feeling quickly turning to annoyance the longer he was forced to listen to that soft wailing. He thinks now that he might have been aboard some sort of mass transport, his mother still at his side. A woman several rows in front of them was cradling an infant, a very new one, by the sounds of it, and the racket of its crying seemed to exist merely to assault his comfort.

 

“Why is it doing that?” he asked loudly, his pale, freckled face scrunched up in disgust.

 

“Shh, Armitage,” his mother admonished. “Don't be unkind. It's only a baby crying. You were the same not so very long ago.”

 

“I don't care if I'm unkind. And I was not, I was never such a nuisance.”

 

“Of course you weren't, darling. And neither is that sweet child.”

 

Even as he grew older, Armitage never did manage to abide the sound of crying, even coming from little ones. Eventually, he came to realize that he despised emotions of most any kind, from any walk of life. The same feelings his child self had felt all those years ago were brought back with uncomfortable familiarity as he stood in the chambers of his new Supreme Leader, somewhat in fear for his life and very much regretting being too cautious reaching for his blaster in the decimated throne room where the same man had lay oblivious just hours before. While Ren did not blubber or shed tears, the raw emotion emanating from him was just as uncomfortable, at least as Hux saw it. They’d had the pitiful remnants of the Resistance trapped as nicely as insects in a jar, and because of Ren's ridiculous obsession with old family wounds, the jar had been tipped over and the loathsome little beasts had eluded them once again, to who knows what ends. All because of Kylo Ren's goddamned _feelings_. For his dead father, no more than a petty criminal, really, his usurping mother, his Jedi uncle, and that little brat from Jakku. Ren stood before him now, his scowl faded into yet another childish expression of defiance and sadness and _'Powers help me'_ , thought Hux, longing.

 

“You summoned me, Supreme Leader?”

 

“Yes. Make yourself comfortable, General.”

 

Hux's eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What? _Why_?”

 

“Because you're all I have left. Now do as you're told.”

 

Hux merely continued to stand in a state of stoic confusion, surely Ren knew that there was no conceivable way he could ever make himself 'comfortable' here. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd felt even an inkling of comfort. “I'm afraid I don't follow you, Ren.”

 

Kylo let out a humorless laugh as he sat down on the bed, staring at the floor. “I didn't expect you would. Come here.”

 

Hux felt his face go slack and thought his stomach might be trying to relocate itself in his throat. _'So it's come to this, has it?’_ “Really, Ren? I expect I don't have much of a choice but do we _really_ have to do this tonight? Right now?”

Ren's gaze slowly turned to him, and Hux visibly flinched as the dark eyes met his own and a half-clenched hand stretched towards him, but the tightening and loss of breath he feared never came. Ren's eyes had widened as Hux had instinctively reached for his own throat, and he let his outstretched hand drop to his side, mouth slightly open.

 

“I'm sorry”, he mumbled, and Hux was surprised to hear the tremble in his voice. “Come _here_ ”, he repeated. This time, Hux obeyed, albeit stiffly, and remained stiff when Kylo took him by the wrist and gently tugged, gathering him into his arms as he lay down. “Relax”, Ren murmured, attempting to pull him closer with little success as the slender limbs remained rigid. “That's an order, General.”

 

Hux was silently contemplating whether this was more or less humiliating than the treatment he had received from his former leader. At least there were no subordinates witnessing _this_ , he concluded, trying to accomplish the uncharacteristic task of relaxing his body, made even more difficult given that the arms of one of the people he despised most in the galaxy were encircled around him, yet he persevered, wanting to keep both his position and his pulse. The more he managed to relax, the closer Ren pulled him. It reminded him of serpentine creatures he'd learned of as a boy, that tightened around their victims with every exhale, only instead of crushing him to death and swallowing him whole, he expected Ren would give him the roughest shag of his life. Or the weepiest – the latter definitely would have been worse. He chanced a tentative glance over his shoulder when he felt Ren's arms leave him – he was sitting up, tugging his boots off. Hux took a steadying breath, exhaling pointedly as he sat up and did the same, annoyed that Kylo was already down to his shorts and nothing else in the time it had taken him to pull off the tight-fitting boots and shed the coat. He wasn't about to let nerves get the best of him, however, and sped up at the task.

 

“The _hell_ are you doing?”

 

Ren had made to lie back down but paused halfway, frozen comically in place, staring at Hux, whose thumbs were tucked into the waistband of his pants and briefs together; they were already tugged partway down, the top half of his pale buttocks in plain view, the rest of his uniform discarded hastily onto a chair by the door.

 

Hux's mouth worked open and closed, bearing a remarkable resemblance to a goldfish, before twisting into a scowl, his face going brilliantly scarlet. “The hell does it _look_ like I'm doing? You're the one that wanted this. As I said, I doubt I have a choice. I'd rather you fuck me than kill me.” He tugged his pants back up and collapsed onto the bed, elbows dropping to his knees, burying his face in his hands in anger and embarrassment. After what could have been moments or half an hour, an enormous arm curled around his slender waist and pulled him close once more.

 

“You're as stupid as you are hungry for power, I'm not going to do either of those things.” He hugged Hux flush against him, sighing deeply. Hux was unsettled by the feeling of Ren's unshaven face against his bare shoulder, the slight friction of their skin as Ren breathed deeply and he barely breathed at all. He wished now that he had kept his undershirt on. His uneasiness at the contact was beginning to be accompanied by other physical reactions that he would rather not come to terms with just now, or ever.

 

“Ren . . . ” he knew he should technically address him by the title he had forcefully assumed, but it seemed ludicrous to refer to him formally when said Supreme Leader's nipples were pressed against his back. “Ren, I'm afraid I don't understand the meaning of . . . of all this.”

 

“Already told you.”

 

“What, that I'm ' _all you have left_ '?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“That's absurd.”

 

“It's what it is. Now shut up.” He tightened his embrace on Hux and swung a leg over his hip, in a way that was more insecure than possessive, and quickly drifted off to sleep.

 

To be fair, Hux had experienced, for lack of more elegant terms, a hell of a time the past few days. Deprived of even more sleep than usual, placed under more stress and humiliation and uncertainty than he had in perhaps his entire lifetime, he could be forgiven for having taken this long to figure out the long and short of what was happening to him. Much of what transpired recently could be attributed, as he had reflected on earlier, to Kylo Ren's fucking feelings. This was no different. Like that loathsome little youngling on the transport, Ren selfishly demanded that his feelings be sated and soothed, only this time, Hux could not escape when the ride was over. In fact, he could barely move at all; the slightest shift or wriggle resulted in the impossibly huge arms renewing their grasp on him, sometimes accompanied by a barely audible 'No'.

 

 _'So be it'_ , he thought, a resolve growing in him and slowly replacing his discomfort. Yes, this was absurd, as he had said, and more than a little insulting. All that Ren had left, was he? After what, the princess? That horrible girl who had supposedly murdered Snoke and slaughtered his entire guard? His lip curled in disgust at the idea that he was merely a substitute for the scavenger that had managed to escape them – _twice_ , and then wondered why he would be jealous for Ren's attentions at all, realizing he would be glad to trade places with the girl at the moment. Let her be trapped in this clammy embrace, Ren's enormous mouth hanging open and breathing deeply into _her_ wretched little ear instead of his own. His lip curled in disgust at the rhythm of it, oblivious and droning and so, so organic and _human_.

 

Night was when Hux usually did the bulk of his planning and scheming, and when he took refuge from the demanding routine and atmosphere of the day; being deprived of his solitude was almost as bad as the humiliation of being Ren’s plaything. He desperately wanted to use the hours he’d be unable to sleep to plot the situation to his advantage, but was unsure how far Ren’s powers could reach and dared not risk his mind betraying him to the monster whose grasp he was literally caged in. Closing his eyes, he decided to make an attempt to block all thoughts from his mind and go completely numb as he hadn’t done since he was a cadet, during those shameful nights when he knew he must sleep lest his health and life be endangered for it the next day. The blankness did not come, however, for when his eyes closed, all he saw were snippets and flashes of the past few days – glancing out the viewport of Ren’s command shuttle to look behind them and seeing his beautiful weapon, the crowning achievement of an entire lifetime of labor, hurtling through space in billions of smoldering pieces. His co-commander had lay half-conscious beside him, sobbing incomprehensibly as he bled all over, smelling of singed fabric and burnt flesh. Hux’s stomach lurched just a little as the next bit played over in his mind, only hours ago; he’d rushed to the throne room aboard _Supremacy_ to be greeted with the sight of his loathsome former superior sliced into several portions, staring out with eyes that could not see. The open seat of power had been within Hux’s grasp, only for Ren to claim it in all of his pigheaded arrogance.And then to have victory pulled from them on Crait, finding Ren on his knees inside the abandoned rebel base while Solo’s damnable ship slipped away as easily as you please. Hux’s breathing grew distressed now despite his best efforts to calm it and his body trembled with anger. A hand at the back of his neck caused him to go rigid with nerves. Ren’s voice was groggy.

 

“Stop it. Rest.”

 

“Let me be,” Hux hissed back. “Let me go or let me be.” He shook even harder, this time in anger at himself and the ever so slight moisture that threatened to prick at his eyes. He had not wept in decades, and he sure as hell wasn’t about to let Ren be the one to break him. Ren’s fingers crept further up his neck and Hux was horrified for one swift, passing moment that they would slip around and crush his windpipe, wondering absurdly if it would hurt more or less than the Force choke he’d received earlier, but the pressure never came.

 

“Rest,” came Ren’s voice once more, not slurred by sleep this time, and his hand was gentle. Hux sneered and made an attempt to turn and look at Ren in disgust, and then everything went suddenly and pleasantly dark.

 

* * *

 

He awoke hours later, blinking more than normal to bring himself out of sleep and take in his surroundings, his heart sinking when recollections of the night before came to him. He at least was no longer in the cage of Ren’s limbs – he realized with both relief and trepidation that he was alone in the room and could at least get up and dress without the Supreme Leader’s eyes boring into him. He caught a whiff of caf as he took a final look at himself in the mirror, and found Ren standing at the kitchen counter, only dressed from the waist down, a cup in his hand as he stared at the durasteel wall in front of him. Throwing caution to the wind, the General stalked towards him, lips drawn tight.

 

“What did you _do_ to me last night, Ren?” Instead of a reply, he received a freshly poured cup of cap thrust into his hands. He scrunched his face in annoyance and hastily set it on the counter before rounding on the Supreme Leader, forcing him to meet his eyes, which were threateningly narrowed, and repeated: “What. Did you. _Do_?”

 

“Do you feel better?”

 

“ _What_?”

 

“You would have been delusional from lack of sleep before much longer, I gave you a nudge in the right direction. So to answer your question, I did us both a favor. We can’t have you making a mess of things because you refuse to take care of yourself.”

 

“I beg your pardon, _I’ll_ make a mess of things? Lest you forget – ” he choked back what he was about to say at the expression on Ren’s face; last time he had seen it, he’d found himself quite short on breath while little bits of white dotted his vision as he went painfully to his knees.

 

“Lest I forget you stood by idly, arrogantly, while a Resistance cruiser on a suicide mission rent the _Supremacy_ to pieces? While we lost one of our most valuable captains?”

 

The dig cut like a knife; the loss of Phasma was a blow to Hux in more ways than one. Besides being talented as a soldier, tactician and teacher, she was ruthless and dedicated and barbaric, with next to no moral compass to speak of whatsoever. She had quite possibly been the closest thing to a true friend and ally he would ever have in his life. He wanted so badly to chide Ren for being crass and disrespectful, but chose instead to wedge the inner edge of his lip between his teeth, biting down until the metallic tang of blood bloomed over his tongue. The Supreme Leader loomed uncomfortably closer, and Hux could see all of the details in his face; the scar was uglier up close and the dark circles beneath his eyes had grown more prominent even since yesterday.

 

“I know that you hate me, I know that you want to kill me. But remember this, General: you’re not immune from the same danger to your person. Those simpering little sycophants out there? They’re not as safe as you think.”

 

“I’m aware I have critics, Ren.”

 

“But are you aware of just how many?”

 

Hux did not respond. Ren retrieved the caf he had set on the counter in annoyance and pushed it back into his hands. Hux indulged him this time, sipping at it with an almost comical look of defiance.

 

“Vigilance, General. As for your supposed lackeys, they _do_ respect you to a point, if sometimes grudgingly, and so I need you to make them sharply aware of one thing.”

 

“And what is that, Supreme Leader?”

 

“Any attempts at treason, at mutiny, at regicide . . . will be dealt with swiftly. Painfully. Is that understood?”

 

The ghost of a smile that did not reach his eyes flashed across Hux’s face for a brief moment, no doubt his thoughts dwelt on his own recent attempt at assassination. “Quite clearly,” he responded softly, “ . . .Sir.” The formality had been tacked on as an obvious afterthought.

 

“Very good,” Ren replied with uncharacteristic calmness. “I’m glad we comprehend one another. Go about your day as normal, but be aware that if I call on you, I expect promptness. And I expect you back here at end of shift without question. Is that also understood?”

 

Hux swallowed stiffly, expending all of his willpower in order to not have a physical response to the last command. “Yes, Supreme Leader.”

 

“Have a pleasant day, General.”

 

* * *

 

 

The mood aboard the _Finalizer_ that day was strained and uncertain, and by unwittingly absorbing the trepidation and confusion from his officers combined with his own stress, Hux was, to put it gently, rather vexed by the time his day was ending. He keyed the door to his chambers open, his mouth gaping in indignation and incredulity when Ren’s superfluous bulk was standing just beyond the threshold.

 

“I believe I told you to report to _my_ quarters immediately after shift. It wasn’t a suggestion.” The fact that he was calm and collected in lieu of angry or even smug worsened Hux’s already nettled mood, which he hadn’t thought was possible.

 

“I needed to collect my things!” he snapped. “Personal effects needed to function like a decent human and do my job competently.” _‘Not that you’d know anything about that,’_ he thought to himself. It was at that moment that he actually took in the state of his front room – it was empty of anything that could have been classified as personal or custom. The couch was gone, his desk bare of datapad, comlink, even the coaster he placed his caf mug on, all missing. “What have you done?” He pushed past Ren, storming into the kitchen. His snifters, his goblets, his best liquor, the spices he’d purchased on various systems here and there, and the entire contents of the cupboard and conservator, everything that was _his,_ that let him have some small semblance of comfort and individuality, was gone. He huffed in frustration and breezed into the bedroom. The nightstand was stark, closet wide open and empty. Heart sinking, he went last into the refresher, finding the same. Finding nothing but sterile emptiness. Ren’s voice came quietly from the bedroom.

 

“I moved all of your things.”

 

Hux was facing away from him, fists clenched, barely managing to keep the rhythm of his breathing in check. “You had no right to order this, to give clearance to _anyone_ to enter here in my absence."

 

“No one was given clearance.” The reality of the situation began to dawn on Hux, but instead of putting his mind at ease, it only added to the ever-simmering pot of indignity that was beginning to overcome his life. He spun around to face his superior, fists still balled up, nails digging into his palms.

 

“ _You_ did this?” He began pacing the room, his footsteps echoing more than ever in the empty space. “You send me off to run your ship for fourteen hours, continuing to clean up the disastrous events of the last several days, and this is how you’ve spent your time, _moving house_ for me? _You had no right!"_  

Kylo stared at him vapidly. “I have every right.”

 

“ _You are_ _malignant,_ ” Hux said through gritted teeth, his tone venomous.

 

“You don’t need this room anymore,” Ren said dismissively. “Come with me.”

 

Hux went obediently, at least in appearance. He walked quickly to keep pace with Ren, not wanting to be seen trailing behind him like a miserable pet, involuntarily hearing the entrance to his quarters, his sanctuary, hiss shut behind them, feeling as if an enormous chapter of his life had closed along with it. He was taken aback in a bizarre and vaguely unpleasant manner when he reentered Ren’s chambers fifteen minutes later; there, arranged in almost painstaking detail, were all of the things that had been purloined from him, placed almost exactly as they had been in their former location. He chose to ignore it, the strangeness was overwhelming and he simply didn’t have the energy nor desire to process it at the moment.

 

“The ‘fresher has water.” Kylo’s voice was almost tentative as he volunteered the information while pouring a drink.

 

“Mine had water,” Hux replied with theatrical fondness.

 

“I just thought you might want a shower.”

 

Hux could only manage a weak sneer before flouncing towards the refresher, taking Ren’s suggestion as a tactful way of telling him he was beginning to have a slight reek. He frowned at the inside of the shower, obstinately hating the way his bottles of soap and shampoo had been arranged just so and the way it almost tricked his mind into thinking he was still . . . home. His and Ren’s quarters were identical, for practical reasons, of course, which was why he coveted having things of his own and loathed the fact that Ren had taken it upon himself to manhandle them. He stared at his reflection in the mirror, reaching up to undo the fastenings of his tunic and stopping halfway down, absentmindedly running a finger over one of the hooks, before quickly continuing. He had briefly considered neglecting his hygiene in a fit of protest before dismissing his own revolting idea, knowing that it would bother him more than it would Ren. He quickly finished disrobing, and set the water to running. While the frigid temperatures aboard a star destroyer didn’t lend to much in the way of body odor, he felt as filthy as he was tired, and frustrated. He stepped wearily into the shower, sighing gratefully at the sensation of hot water drumming against his pale skin and coaxing it to an irritated pink, the steam rising pleasantly to his nostrils and easing his breathing. It was then that he knew that this would be his new solitude, however brief it may be each night, a respite from Ren, and he would cherish it. As he stood under the pounding stream, letting the water run through his hair, he felt it again as he had the previous night; that thickness in his throat, a tingling just behind the eyes. He turned round, closing his eyes against the relentless little jets of water, wondering idly if the events of the past week could be washed away if only he stood here and willed it long enough. They certainly could not, but at least this way, as hot water streamed and dripped in rivulets down his face, he wouldn’t feel the tears when they came.

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hux's pet lieutenants worry about their boss's well-being. Ren has issues. So many issues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a tricky chapter, apologies for taking so long with it. The holidays happened and I adopted a cat and whaddya know, it's February. Again, constructive criticism is very much welcomed, and I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter! I plan on them getting progressively friendlier with one another from here on out.

“Are you quite alright, General?” Maudlin asked tentatively, shrinking back and dropping her gaze to the floor as her commander’s eyes darted up in silent warning. “Apologies, sir.”

 

“I appreciate your concern for my well-being, Lieutenant, but one should avoid being familiar with her superiors.” He inwardly chided himself for his own hypocrisy, not that becoming a hypocrite had been entirely his own choice. Maintaining order and his officers’ respect was high on his priority list, but Maudlin had always seemed to have an innocent quality about her. It made her almost painfully easy to work with and she took orders almost happily, but such softness was not a sought-after quality in their line of work. He forced his expression to remain bland and neutral as she hesitantly looked back up at him. “I assure you I’m quite fine, Maudlin. On your way.” He watched as she left him, resuming her place on the bridge, and worried at the inside of his mouth with his tongue, the place where he had bitten his lip the previous morning still swollen and sore. Turning on his heels, he made for the nearest refresher, locking the door and taking a hard look at himself in the mirror.

 

‘ _You really and truly do like like shite, Armitage,’_ he thought as he examined his reflection; the rings beneath his eyes were beginning to rival Ren’s. No wonder Maudlin had expressed concern, however out of place she was to do so. He decided a quick trip to medbay wouldn’t be out of place, opting for a medical droid for the simple fact that it had no incentive to go whispering down the halls about its patients. He winced as it jabbed a shot of B-12 into his thigh.

 

“Could you have made that hurt anymore?” He grumbled as he tugged his pants back on. “ _Stop that!_ ” A beam of red light emitted from the droid’s face and was slowly creeping up and down his body. “I didn’t order a scan.”

 

“Apologies, sir. It’s routine. There has been an increase in unwellness among the crew. However, your only ailment seems to be fatigue. You may want a salve for the bruises as well, for cosmetic reasons.”

 

“What bruises?”

 

“On your neck, sir.”

 

“Piss off.”

 

“As you wish, sir.”

* * *

 

 

The injection had helped, he noticed, as the cycle wore on, and he didn’t feel the routine lifelessness creeping up on him two-thirds of the way in as he normally did. He was almost feeling lively, his mood boosting further when Lieutenants Mitaka and Maudlin met him on the bridge, satisfactory smiles on both of their faces.

 

“General, we’ve located the Millennium Falcon. It’s on a formally uncharted planet; they’re referring to it as ‘Asylum 84’. It’s roughly 8 parsecs from here.”

 

“Excellent, Maudlin. Do we know what sort of tech they’re working with? Their situation as far as shelter, supplies, food?”

 

“Not as of yet, sir,” Maudlin replied. “We only discovered their location quite recently and knew you’d want to be informed.” Her smile faltered. “Shall we inform Supreme Leader Ren?”

 

Mitaka paled, his face all but begging that he not be the one chosen to go see Kylo Ren. Hux thought for a moment of sending him anyways, but ultimately decided against it. “No. No, I’ll inform him myself.” The Lieutenant’s sigh of relief did not go unnoticed by Hux. “Mitaka, walk with me.” It had been an altogether unnecessary command, but the comical look on Mitaka’s face had been worth it.

 

“Oh, General I’m not quite sure I’m the man you want, the credit for locating it belongs to Maudlin, I was merely at her side when – ”

 

“And I believe I asked _you_ to accompany me to inform Ren. If you’ll forgive me for indulging in a bit of whimsy, it would appear your presence brings good luck to those who keep your company. Come along. Maudlin, you’ll inform me at once as new information on the Resistance becomes available?”

 

“Of course, sir.” She appeared to be pursing her lips in a desperate attempt not to be amused by the abuse of her associate, letting the smile escape as soon as the two men’s backs were turned and retreating. She gave a little wave as Mitaka glanced miserably at her over his shoulder.

 

Hux glanced sidelong at his lieutenant every now and then as they wove through the labyrinthine corridors of the star destroyer, at first in amusement, and then concern. Was this what people saw when he was at Ren’s side, no longer equals, but merely a man in power and his unfortunate subordinate following miserably behind him because he had no other choice? He suddenly remembered seeing a transfer request from said subordinate days ago, but had never fully been able to pay attention to it due to circumstances.

 

“You wish to leave the _Finalizer_ , Mitaka, if I understand correctly? Forgive me, but I don’t recall the reason for your request, recent events have driven some things from my mind.”

 

The younger man grew flustered, glancing towards Hux for a moment before deciding that eye contact was an impossible task to achieve. “Oh. . . it’s – it’s nothing, sir. Certainly not important now, things being what they are.”

 

“Your dedication to the Order is commendable, but curiosity does nag at me just a bit. You’ve been one of our most promising young officers since you arrived. A position on this ship is one of the most coveted in the entire Order.”

 

Mitaka smiled in spite of himself. “Thank you, sir. But really, you’ve enough to worry about now in the face of things. Disregard my request. It’s really not important anymore.” Despite his desire to dismiss the issue, Hux made a mental note of the way his smile faltered as he rubbed at his neck.

* * *

 

 

A resounding series of squeaks rent the steamy air as Hux let himself slump down the wall of Ren’s shower and came to rest on the floor. The information about the location of the _Falcon_ had not at all been received as he’d hoped or expected; Ren had hardly seemed affected at all and did not order a pursuit. The Resistance was miniscule, at this point, and would more than likely lose hope and slink away, but the knowledge of their existence would always niggle at Hux’s mind, and he loathed leaving anything unfinished. As for the girl who had been blamed for Snoke’s demise and apparently bested Ren a second time, well, Hux had his doubts. If she had possessed that much power, why flee? He retrieved a glass of wine that he’d placed on one of the shower shelves, brows furrowed as he took aggravated little swallows.

 

Hell, if she was bold enough to march in and do what Ren claimed she had, she almost deserved the seat of Supreme Leader. Why not just take it, then, and dispose of Ren in the process? It’s certainly what he would have done. Hux wondered what sort of leader she might be. In the unlikely event she didn’t simply execute him, he concluded that she probably at least wouldn’t cling to him like a frightened child every night. He also doubted that he’d be naked and drinking wine on _her_ shower floor. He laughed absurdly, continuing to chuckle while he drained his glass and got back to his feet. In any case, drinking naked in Ren’s shower was obviously, in any case, not leading his thoughts to any place he would consider good.

 

He was adapting to his new living situation relatively quickly, all things considered, and was somewhat at ease moving about the quarters now, although still remained under several layers of clothing, which would have been unusual in his former rooms; Ren’s chambers seemed superfluously frigid. He wore his robe in addition to the sweatpants and shirt, and was quick about grabbing his tea and dinner, wishing to tuck up under the blanket again. The silence that filled the room as both of them ate was almost pleasantly lacking in tension, enough to where Hux felt brave enough to speak when he put his dishes back in the kitchen.

 

“Ren, have you given anymore thought to our course of action regarding the Resistance? Time is of – ”

 

“It’s all I think about!” Kylo snapped; clearly not having meant to have said what he did.

 

Hux dropped his gaze gracefully to the floor, hoping Ren didn’t see the way his lips tightened. “And have you come to any conclusions? Firing on them with our entire artillery, perhaps?”

 

“We’ll move when I decide it’s time to move,” Kylo answered darkly.

 

Hux had opened his mouth to respond, but was quickly cut off.

 

“Don’t worry, General. When I come to a conclusion, you’ll be the first person to know.” Hux couldn’t tell if it was sarcasm or not.

 

“I’m flattered”, he answered dryly.

 

“You should be.”

 

“ _Should_ I be, really? We both know you only keep me around because you have no idea how to properly run the Order, to lead.” He ignored the daggers emanating from Ren’s eyes. “And perhaps you’re simply afraid to be alone.” He did not flinch when the cup in Kylo’s hand sailed across the room, bouncing off the conservator and clattering to rest by his feet. He merely retrieved it and tossed it into the sink, obstinately meeting the other man’s gaze. “Have I hurt your feelings, Supreme Leader?” Ren closed the distance between them, their faces scant inches apart, breathing heavily. Hux braced himself, expecting him to lash out any second, but refused to break eye contact. He was surprised at his own disappointment when Ren merely stared at him a beat or two longer before swallowing hard and retreating to the bedroom, door whisking shut behind him.

 

Despite not getting the reaction he’d wanted, knowing that he had managed to get even a small rise out of Ren caused an odd satisfaction to course through Hux. Perhaps a repayment for reducing him to crying and drinking in the ‘fresher. Therefore, it was without the slightest hint of guilt that he marched to the conservator and grabbed the first unfamiliar thing he could reach, his hand closing around a can of what appeared to be some sort of soft drink. _‘_ _Fizzade!’_ the label boasted. _‘Now with even more flavor!’_ He quirked an eyebrow, it looked like something one would keep on hand for children, but he was unsurprised. He grabbed a second can for good measure and headed to his couch and his datapad, sending a few perfunctory notes to Mitaka and Maudlin before cracking one of the drinks open and taking a tentative sip. It was bubbly, almost revoltingly sweet, and swimming in artificial fruit flavors that promised to leave a horrible aftertaste the moment they hit his tongue. He tilted his head back and chugged the entire thing in one go.

 

He’d been halfway through the second can, engrossed in a trashy holonet article, one of his few guilty pleasures, when the door to Ren’s bedroom hissed back open and its occupant all but stormed towards him, resolute. Anyone else might have thought to cower, but Hux was still feeling confident for having caused him grief, and somehow found the courage, or stupidity, to simply remain lying on the couch, ankles crossed, deliberately meeting Ren’s gaze as he continued to sip at the Fizzade.

 

“It’s late,” Ren deadpanned.

 

Hux sighed pointedly, powering off his pad and downing the rest of his drink as he got to his feet. Ren dimmed the lights and retreated to the bedroom. Hux dragged himself to the fresher to brush his teeth; there was no sense in his night being even more unpleasant than usual because of the horrible taste in his mouth. He took a moment to steel himself before tentatively getting into bed where his superior already lay on his back, wishing the sophomoric brute could have the maturity to stay in that position and leave him alone; the previous night he had been once again swift to gather Hux possessively into his arms like a child clinging to a toy. They lay in silence for some time, Hux on his side with his back turned to Ren, and he had very nearly drifted off when he felt distinctly unsettled and glanced over his shoulder to see Ren propped up and leaning over him, staring.

 

“ _What_?” Hux hissed, angry at being disturbed. “I thought you wanted me to sleep.”

 

“ _You_ ”, Ren sneered. “You just know everything, don’t you?”

 

“I’m sorry, am I _bothering_ you? I’m _so_ sorry you forgot we hated each other when you moved me in!”

 

At this point, Hux would have welcomed a retaliation of any kind - a slap, a choke, even the enormous fist taking aim at his face would have been almost refreshing. What happened in reality was far worse. Ren’s eyes had widened, almost as if surprised, his expression quickly melting into a scowl, and his breathing went ragged. _‘Fuck’_ , Hux thought to himself as the inevitable happened; the now-familiar embrace snatched hold of him yet again, tighter than ever before, only this time Ren buried his face between Hux’s neck and shoulder, choking back sobs. He did not criticize the general for going stiff with discomfort, seemingly lost in his own emotions.

 

Hux squeezed his eyes shut tightly, faced scrunched in disgust and horror at the feeling of hot breath on his skin quickly followed by wetness from Ren’s leaking eyes that trickled down his neck and into his shirt. His mind went once again to that horrible wailing child on the transport – this was worse. This was so much worse. He braced himself when Ren all but rolled on top of him and lost further control of himself, now freely but silently sobbing into the pillow, their cheeks pressed together, wet with his tears, sniffling and gasping against Hux’s ear. Hux was trying desperately and failing to block it all out, reminded uncomfortably of his early adolescence and how he would behave similarly after yet another lecture from Brendol about how gormless and inadequate he was, despite being a prodigy. He had quickly learned to channel his emotions into useful tools in place of weakness, yet Ren was a grown man with no apparent grasp on control.

 

“Ren. Ren, _fuck_ , you’re heavy. Get off me.” Somehow Hux’s voice was soft despite his annoyance. He breathed a sigh of relief when he felt Ren’s weight leave him, glancing down at the huge arms wrapped around his chest, surprised to see his own hand in a vice-like grip on one of them, little marks dotting Ren’s skin where he’d dug his fingernails against him.

 

“Supreme Leader, control yourself. This is disgraceful and if I may add, very unbecoming.” He wasn’t sure why he said it so; it was not his place and for certain put him at risk of retaliation, but it seemed to need being said.

 

“How do you do it?” Kylo whispered, a hint of bitterness in his otherwise miserable tone.

 

“Do _what_ , sleep at night? It was easier before I was doing it with _you_.”

 

“No,” he responded, annoyed. “Everyday.”

 

“Again, infinitely easier before _this_.”

 

“You’re not like me.”

 

“No I’m not, a fact I’m grateful for.”

 

Another pathetic sniffle polluted the silence Hux longed for.

 

“It doesn’t suit a leader for his subordinates to be terrified of him. There is ruling and then there is abuse. Nor does it suit him to display such childish outbursts of emotion.”

 

Ren was silent beside him.

 

“My father was a great man, you know.”

 

“Why would I care about your father, Hux?”

 

“You wouldn’t, but my point is that he’s dead now, and not by an act of nature. Snoke is dead as well.”

 

“Snoke was not a great man”, Kylo said bitterly, staring at the ceiling.

 

“At least that’s one thing we can agree on,” Hux scoffed. Ren turned and stared at him, almost in disbelief. “Oh yes,” Hux went on, all soft smiles and narrowed eyes. “I know what our dear former leader thought of me, and apparently, you too. Careless of him to let on, wouldn’t you agree? Maybe he wouldn’t have gotten himself killed . . . by your little friend, that is. I think it would have been much better had he either kept up the tirade of keeping us as members of his dangerous little menagerie of viscous pets or just be transparent and let us all loathe one another in peaceful order. But keep kicking a dog, and even the most loyal one will bite.”

 

“You talk a lot.” Ren turned away under the facade of reaching for the glass of water on his nightstand, but Hux was positive he could see him rubbing away the remnants of the tears he’d shed only moments before.

 

“And you listen little.”

 

“Just because you don’t get the response you want out of people doesn’t mean they aren’t listening.”

 

“Is that so?” Hux queried.

 

“It is.”

 

Hux was hardly pleased, but did not protest when Ren embraced him now, and had even managed to avoid cringing at the arms encircling him that had become routine, although he kept his own arms crossed to his chest even as Ren’s hands gently clutched, one on his wrist and another on the opposite forearm. He smiled softly to himself in the dark as his commander’s breathing grew deep and relaxed as it always did.

 

He awoke out of a somewhat comfortable rest several hours later, rubbing at his eyes and looking around for Ren’s chronometer. It was a bit earlier than he needed to wake, but it seemed like as good a time as ever; it was difficult enough falling asleep once a night. A few tentative nudges got Ren to remove the leg that wrapped around him each night, and he simply pushed his arms away with little resistance. He stood up and watched with mild interest, and still a hint of trepidation as Ren rearranged himself in his absence, his arms wrapping around Hux’s pillow and pulling it close with a contented sigh.

 

While he still certainly regretted not going for the kill when he had the chance, Hux now pondered his new challenge. Organa, Solo, Skywalker and even Snoke had all failed. He determined himself to do what they could not, or at least die trying. For now, however, he would let the Heir of Vader sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hux is in denial about the condition of his health. Ren puts his foot down.

Several days had gone by, miraculously, without either of them provoking the other. Hux found himself relieved that Ren at least granted him a while to himself each evening, though he still always appeared after an hour or two, silently beckoning him to bed with that stern, slightly creepy stare. Hux felt it was a painful waste to spend so much time with one’s eyes closed when there was so much else he could be doing. He probably hadn’t slept so much since he was very young. He usually woke first and was out the door before Ren had even dressed, and on this particular morning, was chomping at the bit to start his day even earlier than normal. He sat at his desk, drumming his fingers against the glossy black surface impatiently, before sighing loudly and heading for the door.

 

“No.”

 

He closed his eyes firmly, desperately pleading to the universe for patience, his hand still stretched for the keypad at the entrance of the room.

 

“Is there something I can assist you with, Supreme Leader?” He glanced back at Ren, who stood in the small dining area, in nothing but his lounge pants, as per usual. The table had two settings and Ren pointed at one chair.

 

“Eat first.”

 

“I’ll eat at the mid-morning briefing, right now I –”

 

“Aren’t due on shift for another hour. Sit down.”

 

He stared at the table; a plate with two eggs was comfortably nestled on a tray, next to a bowl of porridge with purple and green fruit, and a fresh cup of caf. “I’m not hungry.” His stomach gurgled traitorously just as the words had left his mouth.

 

“Of course not,” Ren said flatly. “Sit.”

 

Hux fought to keep a sneer from forming. “An order?”

 

“No,” replied Ren, lowering himself into a chair. “But it’s a very strong suggestion.”

 

Hux shrugged off his coat and joined him at the table, still barely maintaining his straight face and now pretending to ignore how good the food actually did smell. He couldn’t really remember the last time he had sat down to a proper breakfast. It had, for so long, like the copious amount of sleep that was being forced on him, seemed like a massive waste of precious time. He’d been about three-quarters of the way through his food, ignoring how much his malnourished body both needed and wanted it, when he felt that growing familiar urge to push his boundaries just a bit returning.

 

“Supreme Leader, a suggestion of my own, if I may?”

 

Ren looked at him, considering the request for just a few beats, and nodded.

 

“Might you be able to accompany me today, for a few hours?”

 

Ren grimaced. “Why?”

 

“It would be prudent, for you to perhaps be a present figure among your subordinates, instead of remaining a hidden figure giving orders from the shadows, as our unfortunate former leader was.”

 

“They’ve seen me.”

 

“ _Not_ unmasked, not often enough. Remember what I said about them being fearful. Do you know some of our best have requested transfers because they’re petrified of you?”

 

“Replaceable.”

 

“The trust of one officer is worth the blind obedience of a hundred of his comrades!”

 

“So get two hundred.” Ren leaned back in his chair with infuriating nonchalance, nursing his caf.

 

“That trooper defected. After an entire lifetime of programming, conditioning. Trained by the best the Order had to offer. Why he turned traitor still eludes me, but he’s chosen to trust his new little group of friends to the point of endangering his own life to further their cause.”

 

“I don’t see what this has to do with me traipsing about with you all day.”

 

“Forgive my candor, but it it seemed to be after going on a mission with _you_ that he chose to free that pilot and escape. He was _mine_ , and we lost him. We can’t afford to have two hundred more do the same.”

 

“Fine,” he replied, slamming his empty cup onto the table. “A few hours. But I . . .”

 

“Yes?” Hux was both amused and slightly concerned at the way Ren suddenly seemed uncomfortable.

 

“I’ll need you to let me in.”

 

“Let you in _where_? You have clearance of the entire ship, I don’t –” he was cut off by an unpleasant sensation at the back of his head, slowly creeping up towards his forehead. It wasn’t quite painful, but he knew that if it persisted or strengthened, he’d be seeing his breakfast again.

 

“ _In_ ,” Ren repeated softly, and Hux understood. “I’ve respected your wishes in the past not to probe your mind, but circumstances are different now.”

 

Hux’s hands shook as he tried to remain calm, the tips of his fingers bent and white at the knuckles; he had to fight the urge to claw at the table. “Ren, I can’t function properly with you doing that, I –”

 

“It’s uncomfortable, believe me, I know.”

 

An image came unbidden to Hux’s mind: Ren sprawled on some cold floor in front of a throne, tense and writhing in agony as someone more powerful rifled through his mind without consent. The picture did not bring him the satisfaction that he expected it should have.

 

“Don’t resist, just let me.” His voice was still uncharacteristically calm and Hux attempted to remain still, not quite able to shake the memory of Ren interrogating Dameron several weeks before and the agonized screams that had reached him from the other side of the door.

 

“ _It’s only painful if you fight it, so don’t. Just like opening a door, see?”_

 

“Yes,” said Hux, relieved at having gained control of himself again.

 

“ _No, don’t move. Don’t speak. Just answer me.”_

 

It was then that Hux realized Ren remained still before him, mouth closed and unmoving. It was bizarre and horrifying and fascinating all at once.

 

“ _Like this?”_

 

He could have sworn he saw the corners of Ren’s mouth turn up for a millisecond and an almost childlike delight come from his eyes. _“Exactly like that. Excellent._ _Just don’t resist, you’ll be fine.”_

 

“Nonetheless, let’s not be making a habit of this.”

 

“We’ll see.”

* * *

 

 

While Ren remained silent as he strode alongside Hux that morning, the General could still feel the strange, insistent presence of something, someone else in his very thoughts. For someone with a mind as busy as his, it was invasive at best and dangerously distracting at worst. He would later inwardly curse himself for his own plan; he’d only meant for Ren to get a feel of how things really worked, not wishing for yet another mystic sitting on the throne who spoke in riddles and short, cryptic sentences. Granting Ren access to the most powerful tool he had was not his intention at all. He had at least had the sense not to allow himself a quick wallow in regret until later that afternoon when Ren had left him. For now, he was mostly concerned with the fact that the Supreme Leader sat to his left at the aforementioned mid-morning briefing and seemed to be nodding off.

 

_Kriff, how much can one in the prime of his life sleep?_

 

“ _Ren. Ren, wake up! There’s caf right in front of you. Dammit, Ren!”_

 

When he got no response, he decided to ever so subtly knock the side of his boot against Ren’s. Kylo lifted his eyelids as if looking up from a book and turned to stare blankly at him. Hux looked away and focused his attention back to Major Shek, who was in the middle of giving a damage report; the _Supremacy_ had been lost, but engineers were confident they could salvage a decent amount of parts and materials from it, and work on stripping her had already begun. Hux felt his heart sink just a little; he had hoped to command that ship someday, but the _Finalizer_ had been his home for so long that he didn’t mind staying here, not really. He figured he’d probably be stuck rooming with Ren either way, so it didn’t matter anymore.

 

“Thank you, Major,” he said when the man had concluded. “Will that be all?” Silence. “Very well.” As the room quickly emptied, he noticed Ren pointedly watching Shek’s every move, eyes narrowed, until he had gone through the door and disappeared into the corridor.

 

“ _He’s one of the ones I warned you about. He’d pour water on you if you were drowning.”_

 

Hux furrowed his brows just a bit. He was not surprised by Ren’s information, but slightly discouraged nonetheless. He immediately shut his mind off, certainly not unnoticed by Ren, but he’d been quick enough to feel his own horrible thoughts approaching. _Was there no one aboard his ship that didn’t want their superior dead?_ He was beginning to be frustratingly certain that if he looked up the definition of ‘hypocrite’, there would be a picture of him next to it. He’d orchestrated the murder of his own father, had been seconds away from ending Ren, and certainly shed no tears when he realized he no longer had to listen to Snoke’s reprimands or tolerate humiliating abuse. And yet he stood here growing more irritated by the minute because everything he’d long suspected about Shek was true; the man wished death on him, or at the very least, public shame or demotion. He closed his eyes, blocking out the thoughts when he felt Ren pressuring to be let back in as they strode down the corridor, back towards the bridge.

 

“ _Perhaps I should accompany you on duty more often?”_

 

“ _What, as my bodyguard? I’ve survived this long without him offing me. So long as you can convince him that you find me as valuable as Snoke did.”_

 

“ _Who’s to say that I don’t?”_

 

Hux could only turn to shoot him that ever-familiar look, the one where there seemed to be a bad smell in his nostrils, before increasing his pace.

 

“ _It’s been well over a few hours now, you’re free to stop following me at any time, you know.”_

 

He waited for what he thought was the inevitable childish argument as he marched towards his station, but it did not come. He looked over his shoulder expecting to see Ren standing there, pouting or fuming, yet he was gone. The rest of his day was fairly uneventful, and he was at least grateful that Ren didn’t summon him for anymore meals; breakfast had already been more than he usually ate in a day and he didn’t feel anything else would settle very well with him right now, anyways. He was idly wondering if he could somehow talk his way out of dinner without Ren force-feeding him. Not even the Tarine tea that he’d been fond of for so many years tasted very good today. He brushed it off as a bad batch and poured it down the sink, pulling a tablet from his coat pocket and swallowing it dry before returning to his final few hours on duty; his head had begun to throb just a bit. As he exited the small lounge, he nearly slammed into someone else attempting to enter. It was Ren.

 

“Will you _stop_ showing up in doorways?”

 

“It wasn’t on purpose this time,” he retorted, almost looking aggravated. “Are you feeling well?”

 

“Yes, I’m _fine_ , or I would be if everyone would stop asking me that. It’s only a headache. Now unless you need my assistance with the water cooler, I’ll be on my way.” He shouldered his way past Ren and walked off with his usual stiff hastiness.

* * *

 

 

By the time he had only two hours left on shift, his head was throbbing almost unbearably, despite having discreetly taken a few more of the tablets than he knew he should have. Maudlin, going against her training but along with her instincts, had poured him a glass of water as they sat in a small office together.

 

“Don’t you dare dim the lights,” he warned, despite shielding his eyes with his hand. “ _Dammit_ , Lieutenant . . .” she had dimmed them anyways and knew that he must actually not feel well or she’d have been reprimanded more harshly.

 

“I’ll make it quick, General, and I hate to even waste your time with this, but you insisted.”

 

“Yes. I did,” he replied tersely, pinching the bridge of his nose.

 

“I’m sorry, sir, but we’ve not been able to gather anymore information on the Resistance, but we’re certain they haven’t left the asylum planet.”

 

“Has anyone or anything else entered it, have their distress signals been answered?”

 

“Not to our knowledge.”

 

He nodded, eyes closed in discomfort but tone of voice lighthearted. “In this case, no news is good news. Continue monitoring just the same, if anyone so much as goes for a Sunday flight out of atmosphere, I want to know.”

 

“Of course, sir.”

 

“Thank you as always, Maudlin. You’re dismissed.”

 

He waited until he could no longer hear her footsteps before leaning down and resting his head. It would only be for a moment, just to see if the pounding would stop. The lights were already so pleasantly dimmed and almost no one ever came in here. He crossed his arms on the table, nestling his head against the sleeves of his greatcoat and taking a deep breath. To his disappointment, the aching did not subside, but seemed to worsen, and he was only distracted from it for a moment by the feeling of something bumping against his foot. He glanced down miserably to see a familiar boot kicking against his.

 

“Not nice, is it?”

 

Hux could only stare up at Ren miserably, his hair falling out of place and skin even paler than usual. He wrapped the greatcoat around himself tighter, unable to suppress a shiver.

 

“Come on, you need to lie down,” Ren announced.

 

“What time is it?”

 

“Doesn’t matter, let’s go.”

 

“I’m fine.”

 

“Yeah, I can _see_ that. My chambers, _now_. Your little pet Lieutenants have the bridge and they’re quite capable.” His face softened into the closest thing Hux had ever seen to a smile. “I doubt you’ll ever have to worry about either of _them_ plotting to kill you.”

 

It seemed to take entirely too long to reach Ren’s rooms, despite Hux knowing the ship inside and out, and walking at a brisk pace so as few people as possible would see him like this. He’d grown up in space, and the chill damp of Arkanis before it, why had he never noticed before how unbearably _cold_ it was? It was with reluctant relief that he finally saw the doors slide open, and more so as they hissed shut behind them. Ren headed straight for the ‘fresher, rummaging in the cabinet above the sink, re-emerging with a bottle in his hand.

 

“Get some water, take two of these. I’ll get you some tea.”

 

“Ren, this really isn’t necessary, I can –”

 

“You can go lie down.” Before Hux had a chance to react, Ren had tugged his glove off and pressed the back of his hand to Hux’s forehead, then one cheek. “You’re burning up, that’s why you’re so cold.” Hux refrained from making a remark about Vader that probably would have gotten him flushed out of an airlock. He reluctantly headed for the bedroom, where he sloppily shrugged out of his clothes and swapped them for the ones he slept in, trying to ignore just how inviting the bed really _did_ look and how his mind might have wandered to it a time or two during the day. He had just slid under the covers after taking the pills when Ren came in, holding a steaming cup towards him. Remembering the Tarine from his break earlier, he made a weak noise of disgust and turned away from it.

 

“It’s peppermint,” Ren assured him, eyebrows raised in what might have been amusement.

 

He took the cup with no small amount of suspicion, taking tentative sips and appreciating how it nearly burned his throat but soothed his headache. “Why are you doing this, Ren?”

 

Kylo looked at him as if he were dense. “You’re no good to me dead, General.”

 

“I’m not dying! I shouldn’t be in bed, it’s practically the middle of the day. I should be – ”

 

Ren actually laughed at him. “Should be what, exactly? What are you worried about, afraid your boss will be mad at you?”

 

Hux huffed out a reluctant, sardonic laugh of his own.

 

Kylo dimmed the lights to zero, much to his relief, and turned to leave. “You’re not to leave this room, if you need med bay, have them come to you. I _will_ be upset if you infect the whole ship.”

 

Hux rolled his eyes and extended a middle finger at Ren’s retreating back. “Yes, Supreme Leader.” The words had barely left his mouth when sleep overcame him, however short it was. Heightened body temperature did not create an ideal environment for productive rest. The second time he awoke, as he was doing frequently between strange dreams, he realized he was covered in one of his plush blankets that had been stowed away in the closet above his uniforms. He cared less about how it got there and more about how good it felt it was as he still felt like he was freezing to death. The third or fourth time, it was well past 2300 hours, the entirety of the chambers was dark except for the soft glow of monitors and displays, and Ren lay beside him.

 

“How are you feeling?” he heard him murmur softly.

 

“Like I’ve been in the belly of some foul, backwater planet species and shat out alive,” he rasped, letting out an irritated whine when he realized his throat was now on fire, too.

 

“At least you’re alive. Here, drink this.”

 

Assuming it was more tea, Hux sat up with some difficulty, taking it without hesitation and put it to his lips; he was taken aback for just a moment by a more organic, earthy smell than the crisp peppermint of before. The taste wasn’t unpleasant, even if the tea itself was mysteriously gritty. “What is this?”

 

“Old Jedi remedy. It’s disgusting, I know, but it’ll help.”

 

“It’s actually quite nice.”

 

Ren propped himself up on his elbows, turning to stare at him with a bemused expression. “You _would_ like the stuff, wouldn’t you?”

 

“Well it doesn’t give me the urge to go bow to the toilet, which is actually saying a lot right now.”

 

“I believe you. Drink as much as you can and then go back to sleep.”

 

“Don’t want to go back to sleep,” he slurred, exhausted already from the few minutes of being awake and slightly active. He downed the rest of the strange concoction and put the cup on the nightstand, settling back into his pillows. At least Ren was not smothering him tonight, but he was almost certain he would have preferred it to feeling this way.

 

“Now which one of us is being childish, I wonder?”

 

“You’d feel the same way!” Hux snapped crossly. “I’ve been having the same dream for hours. Even if I’ve woken up and opened my eyes for a few moments, the minute they close again, the same damn one starts over! It doesn’t make a bit of sense, but it does when I’m dreaming it, but in a frustrating way. Every time I realize I have to go through it again, it makes me want to vomit.”

 

“Just don’t do it in the bed,” Ren reached over and gave him a few condescending pats that made Hux want to croak expletives at him, but a hand remained heavily atop his head and he was suddenly overcome with a sense of weightlessness and peace. It was similar to what Ren had done to him that first night, but gentler and less invasive, slower to take effect.

 

“Ren...” he sounded as if he wanted to protest.

 

“Do you want me to stop?”

 

“I... no. Just don’t knock me out like last time.”

 

“I’ll try not to.”

 

Hux snorted, resulting in a small fit of coughing. “You’re going to catch this, you know.”

 

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

 

“Why are you doing this? I could have just gone to med bay.”

 

“And injure your pride?” Ren scoffed. “You’d have demanded stimulants and exerted yourself until you were on death’s door.”

 

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

 

Ren turned onto his side and stared down at Hux, removing his hand from the now-messy ginger hair. “ _No_.”

 

Hux winced; the headache and nausea had crept swiftly back upon him at the lack of contact.

 

“I meant what I said earlier, what I’ve been saying,” Ren went on. “You’re valuable to me.”

 

“Your actions aboard _Supremacy_ and later on Crait spoke otherwise. I still have the bruises and cracked ribs to prove it.”

 

Ren’s gaze dropped down awkwardly and his hand hovered where it had rested. His eyes had always been drawn to the fading marks on his General’s neck every time he glimpsed him out of uniform in proper light, but he’d never been able to bring himself to say anything about them. Now would be no different.

 

Hux huffed impatiently, grabbing Ren’s hand and pulling it back onto his head. “I might begin to forgive you if you do that weird thing again.” His brows furrowed. “Why isn’t it working?”

 

Hux couldn’t see the smile on Ren’s face in the darkness. “That’s not how the Force works.” He returned his attentions to calming Hux’s delirious mind nonetheless, wondering in amusement if he’d remember any of this in the morning.

 

Hux awoke close to start of cycle, feeling overwhelmingly hot; his shirt was damp with sweat and more continued to trickle down his body whenever he moved. Normally, he slept turned away from Ren, but found that he was facing towards him now, cradled in his arms as always. He felt a flush rise in his cheeks, adding to the overwhelming and uncomfortable heat already enveloping him, and began his daily routine of wriggling out of said grasp and throwing off the superfluous layers of blankets that had been dumped on him the previous night. Ren stretched, inhaling deeply, and blinked up at him before raising an inquisitive hand to Hux’s forehead again.

 

“You’ve improved,” he stated, half-heartedly helping him pull off the covers.

 

Hux got to his feet, breathing heavily just from the exertion of getting out of bed and looking down at himself with his nose wrinkled. “Disgusting,” he muttered under his breath, plucking his wet shirt away from his body and letting it spring back.

 

“It means your fever broke, you should start feeling better soon.”

 

“Whatever. I’m getting a shower.” He grabbed a new set of clothes and padded towards the fresher, wobbling just a bit.

 

“Need assistance?” Kylo shouted after him.

 

“ _What_? Don’t be ridiculous, Ren.”

 

“I was just asking. You seemed to really enjoy that ‘weird thing’ I did to you last night.”

 

Hux could see his flushed face go pale in the ‘fresher mirror. Before he could turn around in horror and question him, Ren had waved his hand and forced the door closed so Hux would not see the Cheshire cat grin on his face – the General did not yet need to know he was capable of smiling.

 

Hux stayed in the shower for an unsurprisingly long time, for once not to avoid Ren, but simply because how good it felt to wash off the salt and sweat and unpleasantness of the previous few hours. He was unperturbed, but still slightly suspicious to find more hot peppermint tea waiting for him when he finally emerged.

 

“Thank you, Ren,” he said hesitantly.

 

“It’s nothing. Can you eat?”

 

His stomach churned unpleasantly at the mere mention and he tried hard not to think of the chunky consistency of porridge or the messy and revolting way egg yolks ran all over the plate if you broke them. “Eurgh. No.” Strange how the thought of something he had enjoyed just 24 hours previously now made him want to dry heave.

 

“Very well. Wait, the hell do you think you’re doing?”

 

Hux had finished his tea quickly and was rummaging in the closet, reaching for his uniform. “ . . . Working?” he replied, as if Ren were unintelligent.

 

“I don’t think so.”

 

“I might have expected as much,” he sighed. “Do you really expect me to sit idly for an entire day?”

 

“Are you implying that you’d be incapable of following an order to rest?”

 

Hux drew his lips tight. “No, Supreme Leader.”

 

“That’s what I thought,” Ren replied. He turned to face Hux, his expression softening. “I do appreciate how difficult this is for you, General, but it’s for everyone’s sake, for the Order’s.”

 

“For the _Order_ ,” Hux repeated dryly.

 

“Come on,” he prodded softly. “When was the last time you had a day off, just to yourself?”

 

“I don’t get days like that,” he countered, shaking his head.

 

“You do now. You’re angry at me,” He added, amused.

 

Hux shut the closet door with more force than he had meant to and whipped around to face him. “ _Yes_ , Ren, I’m angry at you. You took over this regime and run it like you’re playing at some sort of game. You’ll drive it straight into the ground.”

 

“Isn’t it though? A game? We kill some of them, they kill some of us, everyone backs off to go lick their wounds and play things out with little toy soldiers before starting the whole pointless thing all over again. Just to see who can call themselves king or queen, emperor, or empress. ‘ _Supreme Leader_ ’. It’s always been a game, Hux, regardless of the cost. Did you weigh the fact that you were about to extinguish billions of lives when you fired Starkiller on the Hosnian system? Or did you just smile, knowing you’d advanced your pieces further across the board?”

 

“Don’t act as if you’ve never _extinguished_ a life or two yourself, Ren. I’ve seen you do it without a second thought. We’re no different in that regard.”

 

He stiffened as Ren advanced on him, the big bare hands falling onto his shoulders and pressing him against the cold durasteel wall. His pale eyes stared dead into Ren’s amber-brown ones.

 

“Don’t ever presume to know my thoughts, General.”

 

“Forgive me, Supreme Leader,” he replied coldly. “Although it does seem a bit unfair, as you can know all of mine at a whim.”

 

“I’ve _never_ –”

 

“But you can.” The hands slid from his shoulders, lingering on his arms for just a bit too long, before leaving him altogether to hang limply at Ren’s sides. “Are you going to stay in here and patronize me for the entire day?”

 

Kylo stared at him boyishly for a few beats. “No.” He turned and walked away. “I won’t _patronize_ you, at least.”

 

The look exchanged was enough to render words between them pointless; they both knew that lack of trust and not the need to hold a warm body was what kept Ren at Hux’s side this time. An entire day to his own devices would have given the General far too much opportunity to stage a coup or poison his food, or whatever other iniquitous plans he could concoct in that sharp mind of his.

 

Hux would admit defeat this time, turning disinterestedly away from Ren and retreating to the kitchen for more tea and storming back into the bedroom while it steeped, retrieving a large, plush black blanket and draping it over his shoulder. He finished preparing the tea and nestled himself snugly into the couch, wrapping the blanket around him like some sort of cocoon, datapad in hand. He had barely gotten through half of his cup and idly scrolled through a few notifications when he felt his eyelids falling again. He had just enough energy to be thoroughly annoyed at Ren for being right about taking a day to himself before drifting off, eyes flickering open now and then at noises in the room; once when a cleaning droid was in, tidying up and changing the bedsheets, and again when he could hear Ren speaking softly, not loud enough for him to make out the words. He woke up again to discover that it was past 1500 hours, horrified at his own lack of usefulness. He was lying there, rubbing his eyes and pondering the meaning of life when he felt Ren looming over him, bowl in hand.

 

“Your color is back, what little of it there was to begin with,” he smirked. “Here, I got you some soup.”

 

Hux sat up, privately pleased that his head no longer spun and throbbed when he did so, taking the bowl from Ren’s hand and placing it on the table beside him. “What on earth have _you_ been doing this whole time, I wonder? I know you don’t normally restrict your skulking to your chambers.”

 

“Running the Order into the ground,” he sneered.

 

“I don’t doubt it,” he retorted sourly.

 

“I’ve actually decided we should promote your little pets.”

 

“My _pets_?” Hux reluctantly retrieved the soup, no longer able to ignore the effects of subsisting exclusively on tea and pills for over twenty-four hours.

 

“Mitaka and Maudlin. They’re extremely capable from what I’ve observed, even if he’s a bit too timid for my liking. I’d thought about sending them on leave as a reward for locating the Resistance, but I didn’t feel like listening to you whine about wasted time.”

 

“Your thoughtfulness and generosity know no bounds, Ren,” he quipped. “I’m sure they’ll both be pleased, anyways. And by the way, Mitaka is only timid when you’re involved in the equation.”

 

“Should we have a ceremony?”

 

“It’s not necessary, but I’m certain morale and your reputation would benefit from it.”

 

He nodded thoughtfully, and Hux fancied he was struggling not to disclose how pleased he was at having done something right.

 

“Dejarik?” Ren inquired abruptly.

 

“ _What_?”

 

“After you’re done eating. I have a board. I thought we could sate your need to always be playing at something violent and strategic, keep the talents of your shrewd little mind honed.”

 

“It’s not as if I have anything better to do,” Hux sighed.

 

Three rounds later, Hux had to admit, at least to himself, that he wasn’t having a horrible time, however unwilling he might have been initially. He had beaten Ren soundly in the first and third games, having thoroughly expected a tantrum as a result both times, surprised to find Ren simply complacent and wanting to try for another.

 

“Two more,” he deadpanned, taking a sip of water.

 

“You only want more because you’ve lost two out of three.”

 

“And you don’t want more because you’re afraid of me evening the score.”

 

It was then that Hux recalled Ren’s words to him on that first horrible night after he’d assumed the throne. _‘You’re all I have left.’_ He pondered Ren’s upbringing for a moment; it had been starkly different from his own, of course, and even despite the strange Jedi training, Ben Solo’s adolescence had no doubt been saturated with family and friends and those weak and slightly repugnant things known as affection and love. It suddenly struck him that Ren might actually be lonely. Going from a life like that to one filled with discipline and destruction and _Snoke_. No wonder he was a mess. Now here he was, seated in the throne that ruled the entire galaxy, and he was all but begging, forcing, even, Armitage Hux of all people, to keep him company, because he had no one. It wasn’t about Dejarik or evening scores at all. _‘You poor, sad bastard,’_ Hux thought, hoping Ren did not hear him.

 

“I never said I didn’t want another game,” he countered, his normally sharp voice startlingly soft. “One more, and then I really do need to go to bed. I plan on returning to duty tomorrow.”

 

“Two more, and I’ll _let_ you return to duty.”

 

A sly smile pulled at the General’s mouth. Poor sad bastard or not, he still felt no guilt at the slight manipulation, letting him think it was his own clever idea. If he had to bargain using his own time in exchange for what he wanted, it was a sacrifice worth making, and Dejarik with Ren had proved to be less vapid than the trashy holonet articles.

 

“As you wish, Supreme Leader.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, since he was absent during The Last Jedi, I'm not certain that poor Mitaka didn't survive Kylo's tantrum. But I like having him around.

**Author's Note:**

> Song insp. in summary is Battles by Hudson Taylor
> 
> Constructive criticism welcome!


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